


Soothing Properties

by commas_and_ampersands



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Live Action TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 00:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commas_and_ampersands/pseuds/commas_and_ampersands
Summary: Motoki, Makoto, and a cup of chamomile.





	Soothing Properties

**Author's Note:**

> Written December 2007; revised December 2017.

Motoki always woke up when he found himself alone in bed.  Ever since he and Makoto had begun living together, he'd developed a kind of sixth sense for when the other side of the bed had been empty for too long.  He stayed still for the count of one hundred to see if Makoto was on her way back.  He listened for her feet creaking against the apartment floor or water rushing through the pipes.  Instead, he heard a kitchen chair being pulled out.  He frowned and went to find her.  
  
He found Makoto in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in his bathrobe and a mug of steaming hot tea clenched between her hands.  She gripped it so tightly that her knuckles paled against her flesh.  
  
"Mako?" he called out, voice breaking.  She jumped, and something about her posture made him think that she might have curled her hands into fists had she not been holding her tea.  He smiled sheepishly, raising his hand to wave.  Then he realized he was about to wave at his wife when they were alone in their kitchen at two in the morning.  He brought it around to rub the back of his neck in a flimsy attempt to cover.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you.  What are you doing up?"  
  
Makoto took a moment to throw an unconvincing smile his way.  “Couldn’t sleep.  Thought I’d make some tea.”  
  
“Ah,” Motoki answered, bouncing his weight from foot to foot.  He gestured vaguely towards the chair opposite her.  “Would it be all right if I joined you?”  
  
This time, when Makoto smiled, it seemed more genuine, if sheepish.  “I only made enough for one.”  
  
Motoki shrugged.  “That’s all right.  Your tea blends are way too sophisticated for me anyway.”  Although Makoto preferred to experiment with flavor combinations in her cooking and baking, she'd recently gotten interested in experimenting with homemade tea blends.  He always sampled them, and even if they weren't to his taste, they were still good.  Nevertheless, he tended to prefer plain green tea when he wanted a cup.  
  
Makoto took a long sip, shaking her head as she swallowed.  “It's just chamomile this time.”  
  
Motoki raised his eyebrow and leaned forward, sniffing.  Come to think if it, it didn't smell layered and complicated for once.  If he'd been a bit more awake, he might have noticed.  “Isn’t that a bit weak for you?”  
  
Her eyes darkened.  “It has soothing properties.”  
  
The eyebrow that arched moved inward, meeting its twin.  “Mako, is everything all right?”  
  
Makoto sighed, glancing away.  “No, I guess not.”  
  
She sounded so sad and looked so small in the dark room.  He didn't like her being quiet and distant like this.  A lump formed in his throat.  “Mako?”  
  
“I didn’t mean to wake you.  It’s all right if you go back to sleep.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to, so don’t feel like you have to stay up with me.”  
  
“I’m not going to be able to go back in there if I know you’re out here, unhappy.”  After a moment’s consideration, he reached forward to hold one of her hands.  His fingers resting over her wrist, thumb smoothing out the skin above the bone.  “You don't have to tell me, but... if you want to, I'll listen.  And if you really want me to go, I'll do that too.  But don't think you have to be in here by yourself.”  
  
Makoto looked up at him, her eyes a bit wider than they had been a moment before.  Motoki wondered if maybe he should have just gone when she told him to, if pushing her when she was so clearly disturbed had been a mistake.  Then, after a beat, she nodded and took a preparatory sip from her cup.  “I… I had a nightmare.”  
  
“Oh.  I'm sorry.”  Motoki paused.  “Are you all right?”  
  
“Just a little shaken up I think,” she answered, shifting in her seat.  “I haven’t had one in awhile.  It took me off guard.”  
  
Motoki swallowed.  "Was it about... before?"  
  
Motoki had next to no memory of the time when she had been Sailor Jupiter.  From what all the girls and Mamoru understood, after the final battle, a sort of reset button had been activated.  Time had spun backwards, allowing a number of things to change.  Minako had her surgery while there was still a better chance for survival, and she’d been free of tumors for the past five years.  Ami had embarked on a medical fellowship before finishing high school and was still studying in Germany.  And Makoto and Motoki hadn’t met in quite the same way as they had before.  
  
He had vague images and impressions from that lost time.  He remembered a green scarf and a karaoke pass that all of the girls had possessed.  It still left him a bit off-kilter -- like he felt he’d known Makoto and the others before they were properly introduced.  But it had all been explained to him by Mamoru, and, considering Motoki didn’t immediately run screaming, he believed them.  He believed them even more when they’d had a short reactivation the year before, just before Usagi and Mamoru’s wedding.  What little he witnessed had been scary, and he was usually glad that his memories of their real activities were so vague.  
  
Now he wished that he remembered things more clearly, if only for Makoto's sake.  
  
“Yes," she confirmed.  "About before."

"How bad?"  
  
“Mostly, they’re just about things going differently.  I think about… how everyone died and how we almost lost.  It just haunts me.”

“But it’s all right now. You guys fixed everything in the end.”  Not that they'd ever been very clear on how they'd managed it, at least not to him.  
  
“We almost didn’t,” Makoto murmured.  He felt her muscles begin to coil and tense beneath his touch.  “The three of us - Ami, Rei, and me - were lying on the ground, begging her to stop.  She wouldn't listen.  We almost had to fight her, but… none of us were strong enough to stop Usagi.  Even if Minako had been there, we wouldn't....”  She shook her head despondently.  “It doesn't matter.  I wasn’t strong enough.”  
  
Motoki knew there had to be a right thing to say, a perfect turn of phrase to make it all better, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of what it could be.  He had no idea how to help her, his own wife.  It made him feel like he’d never be useful, and some part of him wondered if she’d realize that marrying him had been a horrible mistake.  
  
Motoki’s back went rigid at the thought, and before he knew it, he’d scooted his chair closer to hers, arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her to him.  She leaned into him immediately, her cheek against his chest, her mussed hair scratching at his chin.  
  
“It’s okay to make a mistake sometimes,” Motoki said.  “Like me right now.  I know its not the same thing, not at all, but I don't know how to help you.  You know I don't really understand what you guys went through, so I don't know the right things to say.  But maybe remembering it all wouldn't even really help.  It doesn't matter.  I'm still going to try.”  
  
It wasn’t a cure-all, but it was the best that he could do.  They stayed that way for a long time, not talking.  It wasn’t the most comfortable position for him, but he didn’t want to move away from her.  Particularly when she let go of the now cold tea and dozed off in his arms.


End file.
